Figment
by teacandles
Summary: Kurt was hiding things from her again, and Mercedes had had enough. It was time to get to the bottom of this. She just wasn't prepared for what she would find.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Unfortunately, I'm completely blocked on two of the three stories I have ongoing (yes, this includes _Visions_), so I thought I'd try out a new prompt to get my creative juices flowing again. It's sort of working, but I don't know how well this comes off. Beware of twist endings for they are delicious. There should be at least one more part to this.

* * *

It was a routine of theirs: meet up after second period and walk to glee together. They'd been doing it for quite a while now, and Mercedes couldn't help but smile at the sight of her best friend fixing his hair using the tiny mirror she knew was plastered to the door of his locker. Such a diva. Sometimes she marveled at how well they got along when they were so alike. What ever happened to 'opposites attract?'

Her steps quickened as she approached. "Hey, Kurt. How was French?"

He shut his locker with a gentle push and hiked his books up a little more securely in his arms. "Easy. I'm not exactly excited about the essay we've got due next week, but at least my vocabulary is passable, something I can't say for most of my classmates." He moved away from the wall and started off in the direction of the stairs. The choir room was in such an inconvenient place at the other end of the school, but the long trek only helped their routine. It was better to walk in groups, with friends. Less chance of full-on slushie facials and a little more protection from locker checks that way.

Kurt stumbled a little and he scowled at the floor in disgust. His shoe had probably caught on some old gum or something that had caked to the floor in a little black lump, just waiting to trip unsuspecting students. He quickly regained his composure. "How about you? How was History?"

She shrugged. "Dull. Mr. Ramirez is pretty boring." A comfortable silence fell between them as they rounded the stairs. Mercedes liked little moments like this, where they could simply enjoy each other's company without small talk or pleasantries. Not that she didn't like talking to Kurt, but he was the only friend of hers she felt comfortable enough with that conversation wasn't needed. She suddenly remembered the question that had been nagging her all morning.

"Kurt, I've been meaning to ask you something. Are you free at all on Friday? There's a sale going on at-"

"Can't, Mercedes. I'm going to a movie."

"Oh." He face fell with disappointment. "With who? You never go to the movies by yourself."

"A friend of mine. He doesn't go to McKinley."

She frowned, remembering the whole Jesse incident with Rachel. "He isn't from Carmel, is he?"

"No. He's a private school kid."

Okay. She didn't know of any private schools in the area, but she could work with that. "Which one? I don't really know many private schools."

Kurt squirmed uncomfortably and averted his eyes, trying not to look at her. "Just a school. It's not really close. You've probably never heard of it."

Probably true. Her face scrunched up into a frown, but she didn't push the issue. She didn't like that Kurt was hiding something from her, but he was right; she wasn't really all that familiar with other schools in the area, especially if they were private ones. Best to just drop it and bring it up again later. "Okay. Well, um, I've got some extra cash, and now I've nothing to do that day. Do you think maybe I could come along with you guys? I'd like to meet him. Or her," she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, if that's okay."

"I don't know, Cedes. He's the one who invited me, not the other way around. I think he meant for it to be just us. Besides, isn't it kind of rude to invite yourself to things?" The choir room came into view. Mercedes felt her mood drop with each step. Kurt was ditching her for someone else.

"Yeah, I guess. Um, if you're free any other time-"

"I'll be sure to let you know," he finished with a smile. "I'll talk to him this weekend. I'm sure you'd like him. Blaine's a cool guy."

Well, that made her feel a little better. "That'd be awesome."

He paused at the door, his hand hovering just above the handle. "Oh, and Mercedes?"

"Hmm? What's up?"

"Those pants are glorious. I can hardly believe I didn't put that outfit together for you. You really should wear that color more often."

Her smile widened and she shoved him affectionately. "Thanks. I'd say something nice about your outfit, but I thought we already covered why stripes and Kurt Hummel are a bad mix."

"Oh, be quiet. You love it and you know it."

She chuckled as they ducked into the choir room, the bell warning them that class started up in a minute echoing down the halls. "Only because you make me look good today, babe."

* * *

It had been a while since she'd been to Kurt's house. They usually met at the mall or drove around in her car or something instead of hanging around either of their houses.

It was just how she remembered it. The walls were the same cool white, the couch still lumpy and brown and just a little threadbare. Kurt was puttering around in the kitchen, grabbing some light snacks and things for the hour or so they had left. They were meeting here because Mercedes had wanted a little time to just hang out, though Kurt didn't have much spare time these days. Even now, he only had an hour or so before he had to head out to his father's shop. They were low on staff since Greg quit, and Burt needed the extra pair of hands. Kurt didn't mind. He honestly liked working with cars and spending time with his dad actually boding over something was a huge plus. Too bad it cut into his time with friends.

He walked into the living room, sparkling water and little packets of almonds clutched tight against his chest. Mercedes was standing over by the couch, all of her attention focused on the picture frame in her hand. Kurt recognized the grain and color of the wood and he gripped the snacks a little closer to his body. He knew which photo that was.

"Beautiful, wasn't she?"

Mercedes looked up, startled, and quickly placed the picture back where she'd found it, almost like she'd been burned. Her heart was racing a little from getting caught. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." He walked over to her and plunked himself down on the couch, placing the food down on the table in front of him. "I mean, it's been eight years. It doesn't really get to me like it used to." He twisted off the cap of one of the little glass bottles and took a large swig. Mercedes sat down next to him and grabbed her own, opening it with a bit more hesitation.

"But it still hurts." It wasn't a question, but it was still open-ended. Kurt's eyes went a little glassy and he leaned back into the lumpy cushions. A tiny whine of air followed him as his back deflated the plush brown leather.

"I don't think hurt like this ever really goes away." He looked over at the photo, at his parents' smiling faces. His dad looked so happy there. Kurt wondered if he would ever look that way again, if he would ever smile that way again. It hurt to think that Kurt wasn't quite enough to do that for him. He took another drink and winced.

"You okay, Kurt?"

He screwed his eyes shut and placed his water down on the table, gently pressing his temple as though someone had just lodged something into the side of his head.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a headache. Nothing special."

"Do you need me to get you some painkillers or-"

"No, I'll be fine. Um, what were we talking about?"

"Your mom, but we can talk about something else if you want."

He sighed and sagged down further into the leather. "That would be preferable."

"Okay, um, how did your movie go last week? You never told me about it."

He smiled a little but didn't move, didn't look at her. "Wonderful."

Wonderful, huh? Maybe this was a little more than just a friendship. 'Blaine' wasn't exactly a girl's name. She placed the lip of her water bottle to her lips. "So what did you guys go see?"

"You know, I really don't remember. It wasn't very good, though."

She took a drink and relished the feel of the bubbles as they traveled down her throat. "You chattered the whole time about who was doing a terrible job acting, didn't you?"

He laughed a little and fingered the green glass neck of the bottle. "Probably. You know, sometimes I think you know me a little too well."

"That's the price you have to pay, Kurt, for being gal pals with the mighty Mercedes."

He quirked an eyebrow at that. "Mighty Mercedes?"

"Oh shut up." She shoved him playfully toward the armrest. "It's better than 'Beyoncé.' I'm nobody's copycat."

"No, Mercedes. You're an awful lot of things, and that is definitely not one of them."

* * *

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

Two weeks. She'd put up with his crap for two weeks - the sudden cancellations of plans, the sporadic 'dates' that Kurt adamantly denied were romantic, the odd texts, everything. Kurt was going all funny on her _again_, and it was all this Blaine kid's fault. If she had even the slightest idea who he was, she'd find him and punch him in the face.

She understood that Kurt had more friends than just her. She understood that maybe he didn't want to spend as much time with her as before. She understood that maybe there was the potential for something more than just friend status for Kurt with this Blaine kid, but really? He barely even said hello to her in the halls anymore, and he spent the majority of his time in glee texting the guy. She'd wondered more than a time or two just what kind of setting Kurt had on his phone because even though the two were constantly trading texts, his phone never beeped, never buzzed. It was funny because his phone always buzzed when one of her messages went through. Her texts were nothing to hide, however. This other kid was probably bad news.

Mercedes was tired of this, and just a stone's throw away from alerting the club to another potential Jesse St. James situation. Kurt couldn't ignore her then.

She managed to corner him just after practice. He'd been off - out of time, out of step and just a little off-key. She smelled sabotage.

"All right, Kurt. Spill. Who the heck is this Blaine guy?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "Really, Mercedes? You want to fight about this?"

"Who said anything about fighting? I just want to know who this guy is because you've been ditching me for two weeks now. I'd like to at least know what my replacement looks like."

"You're delusional."

"Am I?"

He scowled but didn't say a thing. Instead, he grabbed her by the arm and leading her to his locker. The halls were empty, deserted and quiet; it was almost eerie walking through them without brushing against someone's arm or catching snippets of teenage drama slowing making its way through the school. He swiftly flicked through the combination for his lock and swung the door wide.

Well, that was certainly something she'd never seen before.

Kurt gestured at the photo hanging right where his mirror used to be. It was the smiling face of some boy, about their age, maybe a year or two older, in a black and red school uniform. He looked all right, if you were into that sort of thing. His hair was kind of funny all slicked back like that, but he looked nice enough. The picture was bland and posed, a yearbook shot, encased in a simple black frame. Kurt had taken the letters from various magazines and plastered them above the photo in one simple word: 'courage.' She wondered absently at its significance.

"There. This is Blaine Anderson. Your 'replacement,' as you so kindly put it. Happy now?"

She studied the picture a little longer and felt something twist inside her chest. Why was Kurt hiding this? The guy looked nice enough. Keeping their relationship - whatever it may be - a secret would only cause contention in the group. It hurt to think that Kurt didn't trust her enough to at least introduce his mystery man to her. "He looks like a nice guy. Where'd you meet him?"

"Do you remember that ridiculous assignment?"

"You're gonna have to be a lot more specific than that."

"You know, from glee."

"Again, you need to cut it down. Mr. Schue's a great guy and all, but I'm not always the biggest fan of his music choices or his lesson plan."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his forehead. "Kurt? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was the boys versus girls thing."

"Oh, that. Where you guys all apologized to Beiste through song?"

"Yeah, that."

"Okay, what about it?"

"The guys didn't like my suggestions. Thought they were ridiculous and something entirely expected from me, thus defeating the purpose of the assignment." He sighed and leaned against the cool metal of the lockers. "They told me to go spy on our competition."

"Wait, you mean on the Garglers or whatever their name is? That boy's school glee club we're up against for sectionals?"

"They're the Warblers, Mercedes, and yes, that's pretty much it. I went down to Dalton, which is all the way in freaking Westerville, and I spied on them, though they kind of saw through my ruse right away."

"And this Blaine guy is…?"

"Their lead singer."

"Kurt-"

"Stop." He held out his hand and shot her with a deadly look. "Before you even go there, this is not another Jesse St. James, okay? Blaine's a genuinely nice guy, and I swear we're not dating, even though he _is _ the only other openly gay guy I know."

"That's not very convincing considering how often you've stood me up in the past couple weeks."

"It's the truth, Cedes. We got to talking and hit it off. He helped me with a few things and we're really pretty good friends now."

"I see."

"Look, if you want to be jealous, fine. Be that way. But I'm telling the truth. I didn't want to say anything because I knew you and everyone else in the club would freak out. Thanks for proving me right." He shut his locker and began to walk away, but Mercedes stopped him, grabbing him by the arm and holding tight.

"I'm not jealous, Kurt, but I am upset that you didn't tell me. The only thing I knew about the guy up until this moment was that his name was Blaine and he went to a private school. How was I supposed to know anything about the guy if you never said a word to me about him?"

"Yeah, okay, I get it. Could you let me go, please?"

She started and released him. "Sorry. I just wish you'd _tell_ me things, Kurt."

"I didn't think you'd care."

"Baby, I'll always care. You're not a burden to me or anyone else, but if you don't say anything to us, we don't know anything's wrong. I get that there are things you don't want to talk about, but hell, Kurt. You've barely even said hi a word to me this week. You know I'm not one to be ignored."

He smiled sheepishly. "I have been a bit of a jerk lately, haven't I?"

"Just a little. But I still love you." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "You do know that, right?"

"Of course, Mercedes. I'm sorry I ever forgot."

"Well, you'd best not do it again." He was squinting a bit. His head must be hurting again. "Do you have a ride home?"

"Mnnh, I'm supposed to call my dad and have him pick me up."

"Do you want me to take you home? It'll be a lot faster, and that headache looks like a bad one."

He winced and brought his hand back up to his temple, rubbing the skin in a little circle. "Yeah. I think that would be good. Just let me call my dad and let him know." He moved his bag around to the front and dug his phone out of one of the pockets, dialing the number for the garage. "Thanks, Mercedes," he whispered just before putting the phone to his ear. "You're a life saver."

"I know. But you owe me a trip to the movies or the mall or something. We haven't well and truly hung out in _forever._"

He winked at her just as the phone began to ring. "Promise."

"You better. I'm keeping you to that, you know."

"Oh believe me, I know."

* * *

But Kurt wasn't any more present after that than he had been before. It was almost like he'd forgotten the conversation had ever occurred, and he had gone back to ignoring her. It didn't help that his performance in glee was slipping - the wrongs notes and steps becoming more and more visible - and he kept getting sick, always running to the bathroom to throw up, though he said he felt perfectly fine except for maybe a slight headache. Bullshit. Mercedes wasn't buying it. Not when Kurt still refused to tell her any more about the mysterious Blaine. Something was up, and Kurt was closed up tighter than Fort Knox. It was endlessly frustrating.

Mercedes had never been particularly patient, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. Yeah, her mom was going to blow a gasket when she found out Mercedes had cut school to visit some boy two hours away, but tough it. She'd deal with that later.

She suffered the long drive down and mapped out her plan as she pulled into one of the spaces labeled 'visitor' in the school's parking lot. There was a group of boys milling around just outside the massive walls of the school, all wearing the same black and red blazer she'd seen in the picture stuck inside Kurt's locker. This was definitely it, then. It was time to try and find Blaine.

She approached the cluster of boys and cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Can we help you, miss?"

"I'm looking for someone."

"Your boyfriend?"

"Not really. A friend of mine, though." These boys meant nothing if they had no information for her. They didn't need to know the whole truth. "Do any of you know Blaine Anderson?"

They all turned to look at a tall, dark-skinned boy on the periphery of the group, who seemed rather surprised at the name. "I know Blaine. He's one of my best friends. I don't think he ever mentioned you before, miss…?"

"Mercedes. Mercedes Jones. And actually, he doesn't know me personally, but I need to talk to him about my best friend Kurt."

"Wait, this Kurt guy, is he from William McKinley?"

"One and the same."

"I met him." He snorted a little in amusement. "Guy tried to spy on us. Is your set list really that weak?"

"No. It's a long story. Can I please talk to Blaine?"

"Sure thing, princess. He's probably holed up in the choir room practicing, but since you're here on behalf of out most beloved spy, I think he could spare you a few moments." He smiled widely at her and normally, she would have felt her knees go a little weak, but this was too important to think about cute private school boys. This was about sabotage and some stranger trying to break her best friend's heart. She wanted answers, and she wanted them _now._

The tall boy, David, he'd said his name was, led her through the maze of halls and room until she heard the soft strains of a piano leaking out from under a door. David knocked briskly on the wood. "Yo, Blaine! You've got a visitor." The music didn't stop and David rolled his eyes. "We're coming in, dude. You'd better not be naked in there."

He opened the door and Mercedes followed him inside. The boy from the photo was sitting at their grand piano, and she was slightly relieved to see that it was just as scuffed and worn as their practice piano in the choir room. The boy, Blaine, swung around on the bench to face them. He certainly didn't seem as threatening as Mercedes had pictured him in the car. It wasn't exactly hard to picture this boy stealing Kurt away from her, but he didn't look to have any malice in him. At least, not that she could see. Maybe she was wrong about this. "What are you doing, David? You know I've got that recital coming up and Mrs. Parson will kill me if I mess up the end of this again."

"Yeah, I know, dude. You've only told us that a billion times already."

"Well, it's important. I need to keep her on my dad's good side. She-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know. But you can take a short break. This," David placed his hand on Mercedes's back and gently pushed her forward, "is Mercedes. She came all the way up from Lima to see you."

Blaine frowned in confusion. "Do I know you?"

"No, but you do know my friend, Kurt Hummel, and that's why I'm here."

"Kurt…hey, isn't that the little spy who came up here a couple weeks ago?"

David nodded. "Yup. That's the one."

"He was a nice guy. A little obvious, since he didn't have the uniform, but still. What about him?"

Mercedes was terribly confused. These boys were talking about Kurt as if they'd only met him the one time, but that was impossible, right? If not, it just meant that Kurt was lying to her. Again.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"I don't know. When he came up here to spy, so maybe three weeks ago? Why? Is he okay? He hasn't gone missing or anything, has he?"

"No. No, nothing like that. He just talked about you guys is all. Nothing about your set list or anything for sectionals, just that you were really kind to him in particular," she pointed to Blaine and smiled, hoping he couldn't see through her lie, "and I wanted to thank you for being good to my best friend. Not many people are. So thanks."

"Um, okay. Thank you." Blaine smiled back, and she felt her anger melt away. It wasn't these boys' fault Kurt was hiding things from her. Didn't make it hurt any less, though. "Mercedes? That is your name, right? Mercedes?"

"Yeah. What is it?"

Blaine had pulled out a little piece of paper out of his pocket and was scribbling something down across the top. "Could you give this to him? It's my number. He said that you guys got bullied and stuff, and he looked like he could use someone to talk to, though I'm sure you look out for him just fine. It's just, you know, another sympathetic ear if he needs one. I forgot to give it to him when he was here, but we're always here if he wants to talk or even make the trip down. And the offer goes to you as well." He winked at her with a bright smile. "I know a couple of guys who would love to have a lovely lady like you on their arm."

She laughed a little and took the paper from him, carefully folding it and placing it into the pocket of her jeans. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Anderson. It was lovely meeting you guys, but I've got to go before my mom realizes I'm not at school."

"It was nice meeting you too, Mercedes. Maybe we'll see you around."

"Yeah. You just might."

* * *

Lady luck was on Mercedes's side. The school hadn't bothered to call home and alert her mother to he little escapade, allowing her to go out for the afternoon once her homework was done. She hastily finished what she knew was due the next day and hopped in her car for the mall. She had some serious thinking to do.

She thought about Kurt and all of his odd behavior lately. He'd been avoiding her, that much was obvious, but it wasn't because of this Blaine guy. She walked up to the familiar double doors and headed inside, one hand buried deep in her pocket, fingers clenched tight around the paper with Blaine's number written on it.

Kurt was hiding something from her, and that hurt her more than she thought it would. She wished he would just _tell_ her already what was going on. Maybe then she could help.

She sighed heavily and made her way toward the food court. There were tables there, and she could contemplate this whole mess over a cup of ice cream or something.

She hadn't expected to find Kurt there.

He was completely alone, but he was smiling like he'd just won the lottery. She looked around. He didn't seem to be waiting for anyone. She wondered just what he was doing here by himself. Kurt absolutely detested going shopping alone. She found the closest table she could to Kurt's without being seen. Unfortunately, he was just out of earshot, but what she saw didn't really need sound.

Kurt was talking to the chair the same way he used to talk to her about clothes and things. He was laughing and joking with the empty space beside him, nothing, just thin air, and if that didn't worry her, nothing else would. He started to gather up his things and she ducked low. It wouldn't do to have Kurt notice her as he walked by. It would be like she was spying on him (well, technically she _was_, but it wasn't on purpose), and she already had more than enough guilt at finding him here in the first place. She screwed her eyes shut and prayed he didn't look up as he walked past.

He didn't, but she did hear snippets of his conversation, and she'd been close enough to see that his phone was nowhere in sight. Kurt had been talking to thin air and calling it 'Blaine.'

Her stomach dropped down into her feet. He was seeing someone who wasn't really there.

Kurt was hallucinating.

She couldn't hear anything over the rushing in her ears that had to be reality trying its best to catch up with her. Oh god, what was she going to do? Kurt was seeing things, hearing things that weren't there.

Her best friend was going crazy.


	2. Chapter 2

He had his phone out again, and she felt her heart clench at the sight. He was texting a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

She walked up to his lunch table and hovered just off to the side. She liked Kurt. A lot. Mercedes liked having a best friend for the first time in her life, and Kurt was a great person to hang around with. He was sweet to her in a way no guy had ever been. She really liked being his friend, but this was almost too much. She just wasn't quite sure how to handle something like this. "Kurt. Um, hey. Can I talk to you for a second?"

"In a minute, Mercedes." He finished tapping out his message and folded his phone shut, setting it down carefully on the table. He looked up at her, a little smile painted on his lips. "What's up?"

He hadn't touched the lunch sitting in front of him. The food sat there, cold and sad and uneaten. She wondered if he was eating much of anything these days. She'd have to watch for that.

She slid down onto the table's bench beside him. He looked completely normal, just like the Kurt she knew, if maybe a little curious. Like nothing was wrong. He must have seen the worry in her face because his smile fell as she sat down. "Is everything okay?"

"Kurt, does Blaine go to Dalton Academy?" She knew the answer to this question. Hell, Kurt was the one who told her in the first place, but she needed to see his reaction.

He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Not this again. I told you Mercedes, he's not a threat to you or your replacement. He's just a friend."

"Just answer the question, please." Her voice was flat and a little cold, leaving no room for argument. She didn't understand why he was getting so defensive about this.

"Yes, okay? That's where he goes. Why do you want to know? So you can go down there and harass him?"

So he'd forgotten their conversation. He didn't remember telling her where Blaine went to school. Her chest grew tight and she found it hard to breathe. Maybe she was looking too much into this. It was only a little thing to forget, even if Kurt himself had told her. Maybe it just skipped his mind. "No. I just wanted to know, that's all."

"Why are you so jealous? I'm not ditching you for him, if that's what you're implying."

"No, Kurt. It's not. Everything's fine. I just couldn't remember where you said he went to school, and I'm curious about him. You never say much about him to me. He's in their glee club, right?"

"Yeah, the Werblers."

Okay, she knew that wasn't right. _Please say that was just a slip of the tongue._ "The what? I didn't quite catch that."

"The Werble—wait, no, that isn't right. The Wobblers…or something." He shook his head and lowered it into his hand, screwing his eyes shut.

"Are you all right, Kurt? Do you need to go to the nurse or something?" Oh god, he wasn't going to go all psycho on her, was he? Seeing things didn't make you go nuts at the drop of a hat, did it?

"No. I'll be fine. It's just a headache."

"You've been getting those an awful lot lately."

"No more than usual. Look, Mercedes. I'm fine. Nothing's wrong, and you have nothing to worry about with Blaine. He's a sweet guy, that's all."

"I believe you, babe," she said softly, trying to placate him. "I was just curious was all. I mean, I've never met the guy, so I don't really have any clue what he's like. Can't blame a girl for wanting to know a little more," she said nervously, hoping Kurt would buy into it. "Do you think that maybe I could go out with the two of you sometime? I'd really love to meet him." _Please say yes. I need to know that I'm making this up, that you're really okay. I don't know what I'm going to do if you're not._

"Sure. I'll talk to him. I think the two of you would really get along."

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, well, we're both friends with you, so there's at least one thing in common already. Just let me know, okay?"

"Sure thing."

She stood and watched him for a moment as he shuffled around in his bag for homework or something else to do. He still hadn't touched his tray of food. "Hey, Kurt?"

"Yes?" He didn't bother looking up, instead pulling out a bright red folder stuffed with neat little sheafs of paper from inside his bag and placing it on the table in front of him. Homework or something, she guessed.

He seemed so normal. There couldn't be anything wrong with him. "You'd let me know if there was anything going on with you, right?"

This time he did look at her, his expression more confused than ever. "Of course, Mercedes. You know I'm not one to keep secrets," he replied softly. He was smiling at her again, and that nagging feeling in her gut wouldn't let her be.

_Liar._

_You've kept plenty of things from me._

_What else are you hiding?_

_What else are you not telling me?_

"Thanks. You know how I worry."

He chuckled a little at that. "Yeah, but what else are friends for? I'll see you in English."

"Yeah. Okay, I'll, um, I'll see you later. Don't forget to ask Blaine."

"I won't."

And she walked away, hoping, _praying_, that she was wrong. Maybe those guys at Dalton had just been jerking her around, messing with her. Maybe Blaine really was Kurt's friend and that crumpled piece of paper at the bottom of her bag wasn't really anything. She quieted the little voice in the back of her mind that was screaming at her to do something, that Kurt was not okay and she should tell his dad, tell a teacher, tell _somebody_. But she couldn't do that. Kurt was fine. Absolutely fine. She needed to believe that.

Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all.

* * *

Kurt made a beeline for Mercedes at their after school glee rehearsal. "Guess what?"

She'd watched him throughout the entirety of English class. It wasn't hard to do without him noticing—Mrs. Carter had a habit of arranging seating assignments alphabetically by last name, which happened to put her directly behind him. Nothing funny had happened. He'd seemed perfectly fine, if maybe a little bored. Nothing out of the ordinary. His headache hadn't gone away, judging from the way he'd cradled his head the entire hour, but some headaches were like that. Maybe she was just looking a little too hard into things.

"What?" she quipped with a smile. "Just tell me. You know I'm bad at guessing things."

He plopped down beside her. "We," he gestured at the two of them with his finger, "are going to Breadstix tomorrow night for dinner. Blaine agreed to come down, and you two are going to meet."

"So he finally agreed?"

"Yup. So you can stop pestering me about him," he said with a playful shove to her shoulder.

"I haven't been pestering you about him."

"That's not true, Mercedes. You really have."

"Well, when you keep cancelling on me to hang with him…"

"Also not true, but you've always been a little heavy on the drama."

"Look who's talking."

Mr. Schuester chose that moment to burst through the door with their new assignment. He'd been experimenting with different songs for them for sectionals to help them improve their sound. Mercedes thought the whole thing was kind of stupid; they'd sound so much better, more polished and professional, if they just stuck to a set list of songs instead of jumping from sound to sound. She put up with it, though. Each new song was a potential for a solo, which was perfectly fine by her.

Mr. Schuester passed around their new material and was babbling loudly at the front, scribbling something down across the white board, but Mercedes wasn't paying him any attention. How could she when Kurt had suddenly burst into tears beside her?

"Kurt." She shook his shoulder, trying to get him to respond. "Kurt, baby, what's going on? Are you okay?"

He couldn't answer; he just shook his head minutely around the rushing flow of tears and wrenching sobs. The other kids were starting to notice Kurt's sudden breakdown, and Mercedes couldn't take it any more. Her hand shot up into the air. "Mr. Schue!"

The man turned around to see what all the commotion was about to find Kurt sobbing in his chair, one of Mercedes's hands on his back to keep him steady. He twisted the lid back onto the dry erase marker in his hand and walked over to his students. This was odd; he'd never seen Kurt like this before. He kneeled in front of the boy and tried to get his attention, ignoring the worried looks and whispers of the rest of the group.

"Kurt? Hey, are you okay?"

Kurt wasn't calming down. He was shaking lightly under Mercedes's hand, and she felt her anxiety growing. "Mr. Schue, do you think it would be okay if I just took him home? I don't he's in any shape to be singing right now."

Schuester nodded, his eyes still fixed on Kurt. "Yeah, that would be fine, Mercedes." He placed a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder. "You're going to be okay, Kurt. Mercedes is going to take you home."

Kurt wanted to scream at him that he was fine, that everything was fine and he should stop talking to him like a toddler, but he couldn't seem to get his mouth to move. Instead, he just nodded and let Mercedes help him stand. He saw Finn hand her his bag, and a terrible, crippling embarrassment filled him. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him, but he couldn't calm himself down. It was like the walls were closing in on him, the whole world crashing down on top of him, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. The air was too heavy; it was suffocating, crushing him with its impressive weight. There was nothing to be afraid of, but he couldn't help it. His heart was beating too fast, his breath too short, and his head hurt like no other. Those were tears dripping down his face, weren't there? The collar of his shirt felt damp.

"Come on, Kurt," Mercedes murmured quietly to him, leading him by the arm from the choir room.

They were about twenty feet down the hallway from the choir room when the feeling lifted. He wiped away the moisture from his face and frowned.

"You okay, Kurt?" Mercedes still had a firm hand around his arm, and his heart clenched a bit at the intense worry he saw in her face.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay now."

"What happened in there?"

"I—I don't know. I just, I couldn't…it was like my emotions were all screwed up, and I couldn't think of anything else."

"Anything else but what?"

He ducked his head and scrubbed once more at his face, trying to avoid answering her, but Mercedes was having none of it. "You couldn't think of anything else but what, Kurt? I've seen you in some pretty bad situations, but I've never seen you break down like that. And that was completely out of the blue! You were fine before." Her heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't help but think of Kurt at the mall, chattering away to an empty chair. "What's going on, Kurt? What are you not telling me?"

He kept walking in silence, hugging his jacket tighter around his body. The feel of the yellow fabric pulled taut across his frame was comforting, and he desperately needed to calm down. "I couldn't think of anything except how terrified I was," he whispered.

"Terrified of what?"

He shook his head. "I don't even know."

* * *

Kurt fell asleep in her car on the way to his house, but she didn't bother to wake him. He had the faintest dark circles lining the lower part of his eyes and she wondered just how much sleep he'd been getting lately.

She pulled into the familiar driveway and turned her keys in the ignition. The car quieted and stilled until the only sound in the cabin was Kurt's heavy, even breaths. Mercedes was completely at a loss for what to do. There was something wrong with Kurt—the outburst in the choir room had proven that to her—but she still wanted to give Kurt the benefit of the doubt. She looked over at him, how he curled himself against the door, and she felt that little something in her chest tighten once more. Kurt was fine. He had to be.

She sighed and gently shook his shoulder. "Hey, Kurt. Come on. We're here."

He startled awake as he always did, and glanced around the car in confusion for a moment before he realized where he was. He deeply and leaned back against the seat. Mercedes didn't move, just sat there in the driver's seat and watched him.

"When's your dad home?"

"I don't know. Five maybe? Six? I honestly don't remember. Carole won't be home until six, I know that, but Finn should be here right after glee."

She nodded. She knew that Finn's mom and Kurt's dad were dating, everyone did, and now the two were living together. At least Kurt wouldn't be home alone. "Do you want me to stick around until someone gets here? You know, so you're not by yourself?"

He was silent for a moment, and she feared that he would send her home, that he would have another freak out and no one would be there. "Yeah, okay. I think that would be best," he said softly, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her.

Mercedes unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, grabbing both her and Kurt's bags from the back. Kurt was a bit slower getting out of the car, and her heart skipped a beat when he stumbled on his way up the front steps. He scowled at the slip-up but said nothing, pulling his keys out and unlocking the front door.

Mercedes was comfortable in Kurt's house. They usually hung out here if they didn't feel like going anywhere. Her house was too often filled with her brothers' friends. College rebounds and middle schoolers were not the best company, especially when she just wanted some girl talk. The amount of testosterone in that house was overwhelming at times.

She placed Kurt's bag on the floor next to his dad's favorite armchair as Kurt curled up on the couch. He was still a bit freaked about his breakdown in the choir room, she could tell. Not that she blamed him; if she'd suddenly started freaking out in front of everyone for no reason she'd be pretty wiped too. He was still holding himself kind of funny, though, and she quickly walked to the bathroom. The painkillers were right where she remembered, and she grabbed two for Kurt, filling the little glass on the counter partway with water.

He was quiet and still, staring at the swinging pendulum of the grandfather clock across from him, when she returned to the living room. "Here." She handed him the pills and water. "For your headache. I know it's still bugging you."

"Thanks," he murmured and downed the medication. He sighed and leaned his head against the armrest of the couch, and they sat together in silence. Neither one felt much like talking: Kurt was far too drained and Mercedes was scared of asking him anything. She didn't want answers right now, no matter how much she needed them. This was Kurt, her best friend, and she needed to believe more than anything else that he was okay, that she was just imagining things, that she was being stupid and jealous and Blaine was not a threat.

A sudden thought occurred to her. Blaine. She looked at Kurt. His face had gone slack; he must have drifted off again. Good. That would make things so much easier.

She picked up his bag and ruffled through the little pocket on the front until her fingers brushed against smooth plastic. Bingo. His cell phone. She pulled it out and dropped his bag to the floor, reaching into her own bag for that stupid little slip of paper Blaine had given her. It was crumpled and the writing was a little smudged, but the number was still there. She opened Kurt's contact list and found Blaine's name at the very top. If she was right, if those stuffy Dalton boys had been messing with her, the numbers should match, right? She had nothing to worry about.

Except that, well, she did.

The number under Blaine's name was familiar and definitely _not_ the one on the little slip of paper in her hand. _Oh, Kurt_. She looked at his sleeping form and felt her heart break a little. _Oh, Kurt. What have you done to yourself?_

She folded up the paper and placed it into her pocket. Kurt might want it once this whole thing sorted itself out. She placed his phone on the table, not really caring if he noticed she'd removed it from his bag. Her hands were shaking. She should call his dad, Finn's mom, somebody, and let them know what was going on, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd give this another day. Kurt could be normal for one more day.

Then she could tell his dad.

* * *

She'd overestimated the amount of time she had. In hindsight, she never should have waited; she should have called his dad the moment she knew something was up and had him take Kurt to a hospital or something to get checked out, but she hadn't. Denial is funny like that.

Kurt hadn't shown up at school the next day, and it hadn't taken her long to figure out that Finn was missing too.

Mercedes knew it was stupid, but her first thoughts were that Kurt's dad had had another heart attack until she remembered how Kurt was acting yesterday. It had to be something to do with that. She pestered Rachel about it relentlessly, having her call and text Finn every half hour until he responded. She needed to know what the heck was going on. She hadn't expected Finn to show up to the after school rehearsal for glee.

The group had walked into the auditorium to find him standing near the front with Mr. Schue, talking somberly about something in hushed tones. Mercedes had never run so fast in her life.

"Finn! What's going on? Where's Kurt? Is he okay? Are you okay? What about his dad?" The questions came in a rush, and she could barely contain herself. Something awful must have happened to put an expression like that on Finn's face. There was that twist of worry in her gut again. "Finn, what's happened? Is Kurt okay?"

He was about to speak, but Mr. Schuester beat him to the punch. "Okay, guys, gather 'round." Even he sounded upset.

"What's going on, Mr. Schue?"

"Kurt's in the hospital," blurted Finn, and the room went dead silent. Mercedes dropped her bag to the floor and almost went down with it. She should have seen this coming, should have told someone about what she'd figured out. Stupid. So stupid.

"What happened?" whispered Quinn from the back. She and Kurt had never been particularly close, but she held a soft spot for him in her heart.

"He had a seizure last night," explained Mr. Schue, relieving Finn of some of his burden. "After his dad come home from work."

"They don't know exactly what caused it yet," continued Finn, "but they found something in one of those brain scan things that they take." He sucked in a deep breath and Mercedes thought he might just break down into tears. "They think he might have some sort of brain tumor."

_Brain tumor_.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she had to grip one of the auditorium seats beside her to keep her from toppling over to the ground.

_Brain tumor._

That certainly explained his odd behavior. The stumbling, the memory loss, that weird freak out he'd had the other day. The whole Blaine business. She'd been so caught up in it all that she'd forced herself to believe that nothing was wrong, and not Kurt was in the hospital with a freaking brain tumor. Oh god, why hadn't she said something? Why had she waited? Some friend she was.

"Is he going to be okay?"

_Is he going to die?_

The unspoken question hung in the air over their heads like a terrible, crushing weight. No one wanted to say it, but everyone was certainly thinking it.

_Is he going to die?_

Finn simply shook his head. His voice when he spoke again was quiet, almost inaudible, his expression blank, and Mercedes felt her heart stop at his words. This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening. Not to Kurt.

_Is he going to be okay?_

_Is he going to die?_

"I don't know."


End file.
